


Hýbris kai Nèmesis

by JoiningJoice



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Everyone is mentioned and/or appears, F/F, F/M, Hades/Persephone AU, Jean is a grunge socially awkward kid, M/M, Marco Bott and Ymir Are Related, lots of fighting, the modern reincarnation of greek gods au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoiningJoice/pseuds/JoiningJoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is a twenty years old guy who moved from the countryside to the chaotic city of Detroit. He has quite a normal life - a wonderful sister, a job that satisfies him, some friends he can count on and a small tendency to act on impulse. What could disturb this apparent peace, if not the arrival of a guy who claims he's the God of the Underworld, wanders in search of pomegranate seeds, and professes an imminent Apocalypse?</p>
<p>Hades/Persephone reincarnation - Modern!AU</p>
<p>TRANSLATION BELONGS TO http://cronstantine.tumblr.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hýbris kai Nèmesis

**Author's Note:**

> Translation from italian by the amazing http://cronstantine.tumblr.com/  
> You can find the original version at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3512150/chapters/7721402  
> More at the end of the chapter!

Divine reincarnation is a weird process, different from what human beings think about. For many religions, human reincarnation is a matter of merits - if in this life you do your duty, in your next one you'll have approximately a pass for happiness. But that's the point: happiness is relative. If you don't know that you deserve it, how can you be really happy when the time of your reward comes?

  
  


For the gods it's different. They don't wander in the realm of the dead until their time to come back on Earth comes - unlike what most people think, they're not immortals, but they're reborn directly (not necessarily into babies' bodies), and always in human form. The one behind the process is that funny guy, Hades, last of the divine cycle to die in any case, and his job is to make sure that everything goes well. But as history teaches us, a god - especially a  _greek_ god - isn't necessarily able not to make mistakes.

  
  


To be fair with the Hades of the period between 1943 and 1994, an old wretch named Eugene Stone, it's needed to say that he had every reason to fail in the most important mission of his life. You may get a little anxiety, when a sniper ready to settle an old score has you trapped in the bathroom and dozens of different souls you need to put in spiritual bodies rush you as well.

  
  


When the bullet hit Eugene's temple, he had more or less put the souls into the bodies. The last breath of life, the one that pushed them to reincarnation, was, however, too weak - it got lost, compromising the process and, at the same time, giving them a whole new possibility. So a new cycle began: gods millennia old were now young inexperienced, confused, with no memory of their past lives and terribly, terribly similar to mortals.

  
  


***

  
  


Detroit, 2015

  
  


It wasn't possible to be so unlucky.

  
  


He turned left, taking refuge in an alley, and he let out a pained groan as he ran into a wire mesh. There wasn't time to think rationally: he grabbed the knots and he hoisted himself as much as he could over and then beyond the wire mesh, looking around only once he rolled on the apparent safety of the other side of the alley.

  
  


The kitten hidden in his jacket meowed in protest only when he turned to check that his pursuers were still far, and he placed a finger on his little scared nose. - Don't worry, everything's fine. - he whispered, slowly pulling up the zipper and looking around before getting out of the alley and going on the main road parallel to the one from where he arrived. Luckily, his apartment wasn't too far away, and he could've reached it quickly.

  
  


\- A little bowl of milk is waiting for you at home. - he smiled as he glanced inside his jacket, where the kitten stared intensely at him and then meowed pleased at the idea (or at least that was what he thought), before going back to playing with an unstitched nylon thread. He lifted his gaze just in time to move aside and greet a neighbor that looked at him suspiciously.

  
  


\- Good morning, Mrs. Brzenska. - He murmured politely, pressing his arms against his chest to hide the feline bulge inside his jacket. The resident of the fourth floor could've been vaguely shortsighted, but she wasn't stupid. She very well knew what the rules said about animals.

  
  


\- Marco Bodt. - she pronounced his name as if it was an insult. Marco stuck out his lower lip, slightly offended. - What are you doing? -

  
  


\- Absolutely nothing, Mrs. Brzenska. -

  
  


In that moment, a bald man from the other side of the street pointed in his direction, yanking a friend just as bald and just as big and angry. - There he is! It's the bastard that bothered us before! -

  
  


\- ...Bodt? - the woman repeated, shocked; but Marco was already repeatedly ringing the bell to his apartment, praying for some kind of divine intervention that his sister would wake up and open the door. The two guys were quickly making their way between cars, and soon they would've reached him.

  
  


\- Open, open, open... - He repeated. He felt his arm get yanked away from the bell and he ended up on the ground, the bald brute ready to beat him up.

  
  


\- This will teach you not to bother people you don't know, boy. - his friend laughed. The one above Marco stopped cracking his knuckles and raised a fist. - Welcome to Detroit. -

  
  


A hand came out of nowhere, quick to grab the bald guy's arm with such firmness that an expression of pure pain appeared on the man's face. Marco's face, instead, lightened up: the thin but muscular arm belonged to someone he very well knew, and who now was staring at the two bad men with the air of someone ready to commit murder. She smiled with bared teeth, twisting back the man's arm and gaining a high whine in the process.

  
  


\- Problems with my little bro? - She asked. The still free man appeared unsure of what to answer, but a sinister sound coming from the bones of his partner seemed to convince him of what to do. He shook his head more than needed, backing away, scared. - W...We were just... -

  
  


\- Beating up a small, defenseless animal, I bet. - She laughed, letting go of his friend's arm. - What big guys. Take a trip to the park or go pick a fight with some kindergarten kid, but get away from here unless you want to try the thrill of staying in an ambulance with both your arms and legs broken. -

  
  


\- Fuck off, bitch. - grumbled the unscathed guy, grabbing his partner and getting away quickly. Ymir smiled pleased, and Marco did the same. He had no idea of what she was doing around at that hour - she had never shown signs of life during Sunday mornings, and it was barely 11 a.m. - but if she didn't show up at that moment he would've been dead meat. She turned to look at him, and suddenly Marco's smile disappeared.

  
  


\-  _You_ . -

  
  


\- ...m-me? -

  
  


\- Get in the house and without complaining. - She held him by his collar, pulling him up and cleaning his jacket of the dust with a few pats on his back. - I fall asleep for a second and you go around and make trouble. What kind of idiot are you? -

  
  


Mrs. Brzenska kept staring at the scene trying to understand what just happened. Marco waved at her, while Ymir opened the entrance door with the keys and then they both slid into the safety of the condominium. - I went out to meet a friend. - He explained then, as they walked to the elevator. - And while coming back, I saw those two guys picking on her. -

  
  


He pulled down the zipper of his jacket and the white and beige kitten poked out of it, meowing happily. Ymir stared at her for a minute, but then she slapped her own forehead. - Not another cat. Not another cat, damn it. -

  
  


\- They stomped on her paw! - Marco yelled, following her in the elevator and gesturing towards said paw. - It's just a momentary thing, Ymir. Then I'll let her go. -

  
  


\- It doesn't matter if you'll let her go or not. - She gritted her teeth, grimacing at the kitten. - The point is that they come back, Marco. And cat's food costs, litterboxes cost, moving out costs. And we'll need to do it, because Rico is already thinking about kicking us out. -

  
  


Marco was sure Ymir was exaggerating. She loved cats just as much as he did - it was her who brought home the first, saving her from getting run over and gaining a bruised knee and lecture like no other. They still lived in the countryside at the time, way more South, and they were just kids. Ymir was his hero. At least that didn't change.

  
  


\- I promise it'll be a two days thing at most. - the elevator opened, and Ymir sighed, searching for the keys buried somewhere in her jacket's pockets. - I won't even give her a name. But with a paw like this, she'd die in a short time, you know it better than me. -

  
  


Ymir opened the apartment door, and she was welcomed by a happy meow. She sighed again, while Marco ran to hug the Persian cat that must've got inside from the fire escape, screaming "Nerone!" with the enthusiasm of a kid.

  
  


Her brother lived in Detroit only for a few months, and the animal thing was the only problem he ever gave her. He had always been an exemplary little brother, but Ymir didn't expect him to keep being one - not after what had happened. He would've had all rights not to be one, to take refuge in his own pain and to become a monster of apathy and uselessness. And instead he showed up at her door with a suitcase, a stupid parka which even then he refused to stop wearing, and a smile, which quickly turned into a hug and a greeting. "Hi, Ymir.", he said. No "Why weren't you there?", no "Why didn't you help me?".

  
  


Since he didn't make her feel guilty for anything, Ymir could bear all the damn animals in the world.

  
  


\- I think Nerone wants to greet you. - Marco's voice took her away from her painful memories, bringing her back to reality. She couldn't not smile in front of that idiot almost one meter eighty sitting on the floor with a hurt kitten in his lap and a fat and dark cat in his hands, busy shaking the poor animal's paw in her direction. Nerone hissed, bored.

  
  


\- You really are an idiot. - She slipped her jacket off, throwing it on Marco's face, who laughed. - Don't you want to know why I was down outside so early? -

  
  


\- Actually, I did wonder why. - Marco stood up with the kitten in his arms and Nerone jumped away, towards Ymir. - And the answers I found were three different ones. -

  
  


Ymir opened one of the counters in the kitchen, in truth just a simple kitchenette in the corner of the living room, and took out a box of cat's food for Nerone. - Let's hear. - she answered, only partly ready to the idiocies her brother would've said.

  
  


\- First option: the woman of your life knocked on your door and you decided to run away with her, but then you remembered having an adorable and poor brother you have to take care of and you said goodbye to the elopement. - Ymir raised an eyebrow and shook her head. Idiot. - Second option: a disaster somewhere between an earthquake and a nuclear explosion forced you to get out of the house. -

  
  


\- Ok, enough with the bullshit. - Ymir bent to pour the food for Nerone in one of the bowls, and he walked up while waving his tail, pleased. - I hope the third option is "You got a job", because I don't want to disappoint you, snowflake. -

  
  


Marco's face broke into an expression of pure joy. - You got a job?! - he repeated, screaming. Ymir felt her heart warm up a bit. He still had the same stupid smile from when he was just nine years old.

  
  


\- The bartender of the cafe at the corner got pregnant. - she explained. - It'll be only for the nine months of pregnancy. Maybe even a few more months, if she takes maternity... and if I work well, they could decide to keep me... -

  
  


\- Ymir. - Marco was next to her, in his arms he had the kitten with her paw bandaged. He got quick, in fixing them up. He placed her on the floor to wrap Ymir in a goofy and warm hug, like all Marco's hugs were. She smiled against his shoulder, grateful to have him. - It's a lot. I'll ask Marie to give me one or two days off to come and visit you, if you don't mind. Do you mind? -

  
  


She pulled away from the hug to lay a hand on his head and ruffle his black hair, a mirror of hers. - Of course not, giant. Just don't hope for me to put too much alcohol in your cocktails. I'm a responsible sister. -

  
  


\- You're the worst of sisters, if you don't get me drunk like an idiot and take advantage of it. - he laughed, helping her up. He was honestly happy for her - since he got there seven months before, Ymir jumped from job to job, hoping to find something that lasted more than three weeks and that could guarantee some economic stability. Stability was a word similar to utopia, for them; and this was even if Marco made relatively little effort to find a modest job. All because of his  _special skills_ ...

  
  


\- Kitten! Kitten, kitten, no! - he scolded the cat, which despite the hurt paw, was already walking toward the hydrangeas. Marco held the pot up and away from her claws, putting it next to the others - dozens and dozens of pots, boxes, supports of any kind in which they planted dozens and dozens of different seeds, which all grew with just little effort. That was Marco's talent - and Ymir's. It was something born probably from the fact that both their parents had been farmers, something that grew during their childhood spent in chasing each other between sheaves of wheat twice as high as them and the poppy flowers their mother grew in their garden. Sometimes, Marco had the impression that there was more - something that went way over natural talent. It was as if wherever he and Ymir went, plants decided to grow on free will, attracted by the Sun, by their energy, by something almost...supernatural.

  
  


He knew that she thought the same. She jumped on him from behind, laying her sharp chin in the hollow of his shoulder and staring at the same grafting he was focused on, a bouquet of forget-me-nots which seemed to bloom under their gaze.

  
  


\- Everything will go well from now on, right, Ymir? -

  
  


She flinched imperceptibly. It was rare to feel that melancholic tinge in her little brother's voice - pratically the personification of enthusiasm. But Marco's lips were curled in a distant smile, and she didn't worry too much. He deserved his moments of weakness. She would've been there for that as well.

  
  


\- Of course everything'll go well. - She laid a hand on his shoulder, and with the other she leaned to get a flower of forget-me-not. Through Marco's hair, over that blush for such a sweet gesture, the flowers looked a lot better than in the pots. - Fuck, we deserve it. Everything will be  _divine_ . -

  
  


***

  
  


The bell of the shop rang, attracting the attention of the man behind the counter, who raised his face to look at the door. - Good morning, Nile. - Marco smiled, unlacing his scarf and walking toward the counter. He returned the greeting politely. It was rare that the actual owner of  _Dawk & Dawk Flowers_ showed up in the shop, but around that time it happened more and more often. The reason wasn't connected to the employees' behavior, but to Nile's natural anxiety, and to the tummy of the woman Marco caught sight of once he was in the back.

  
  


\- Marie! - Marco smiled at her, bending to her tummy. - And...Nile junior. - he finished. Marie looked up to the sky.

  
  


\- Nile junior wasn't exactly what I was thinking about, but thanks for the suggestion. - she smiled, while Marco was leaving his scarf and jacket on the hanger and was opening the cabinet to put his lunch and backpack in it before taking his apron. - You look in good spirits. -

  
  


\- I am. - he finished fastening the apron and then he smoothed his hands over the front. - Ymir starts working tomorrow evening. This time it's a one-year contract. -

  
  


\- It's amazing! - she shouted, clapping her hands, excitedly. Marco knew that character well- it was the one that, according to Ymir, had allowed Marco to bond so much with his boss. - Oh, I'm so happy! Honey, did you hear? -

  
  


\- Loud and clear. - Nile poked his head into the back, giving Marco a nod of approval and then going back to look at his wife. - Marie, we're going to be late for the visit. -

  
  


\- Oh, right. That visit. - she caressed her tummy and her back at the same time. Even if she was in her seventh month, Marie was an incredibly active woman, and rarely she complained about the pains of gestation. She turned to Marco. - At midday the delivery of tropical plants should get here, you and Boris can take care of it without any problem. -

  
  


\- Don't worry. - Marco nodded. - Go ahead. -

  
  


She kissed his cheek as a goodbye and then she followed her husband out of the shop. Maybe it was because of her condition, maybe it was because of what she heard of his past, but Marie acted more like a mother than a real boss. When Marco got back to the counter, he could still see Nile's dark hair and Marie's long and blonde hair walking toward the car; the sight changed as a guy got into the shop, dragging his feet, his eyes almost closed.

  
  


\- Boris. - Marco greeted, and the guy startled as if he just yelled.

  
  


\- College is going to kill me. - He complained, without even greeting him before doing so. Not that it was new. - And if college doesn't do it, my migrains will. Lower your voice, please. -

  
  


\- If I keep it any lower, I'm afraid I'd break the Geneva Convention. A law about anti-noise pollution or something like that. - Marco rubbed his eyes. Boris always tended to exaggerate about his student life, which he secretly envied. He wasn't able to finish college. It wasn't possible, after what happened.

  
  


\- Well, yeah, the police won't be here to arrest you until a while more, so keep it down. - Boris repeated, almost bumping his head against the door as he tried to open it. - Did Marie go? -

  
  


\- She flew away like only a seven months pregnant angel can. - Marco sat on the ergonomic stool Nile insisted in buying, unaware of the fact that the ones who used it the most were Marco and Boris -  _mostly Boris_ \- instead of his wife. There wasn't much work to do in the shop - except for the usual customers, which would've started getting in later anyway. Boris reached him at the front, and slowly they slipped in their daily routine. Boris complained about how hard the courses were, Marco scolded him and told him to appreciate what he had, Boris just kept complaining. Sometimes they stood to check on the plants or to see if any customer was coming in, they picked up the delivery at midday, they were working in such tranquillity that Marco couldn't define it uncomfortable. It was a nice work, his.

  
  


Marie came back when his shift was almost over. - They checked everything and turned me upside down. - she revealed, pouting. - And they didn't even give me a consolation biscuit. How am I supposed to cuddle the baby, without my biscuits? -

  
  


\- Ymir and I are making Velvet Cupcakes, this evening. - Marco revealed, avoiding saying "Or at least we try to without setting the kitchen on fire like last time". - I can bring some tomorrow, if they're good. -

  
  


\- You really are a guy anyone would marry. - she smiled, tying her long hair on her nape and getting in his place behind the counter. Marco returned the smile as he went to the back to put his apron into the cabinet and take his stuff. He said bye to Marie and Boris before getting out of the shop and smelling the cold autumnal air.

  
  


\- Excuse me? -

  
  


And that was when the atmosphere changed. It wasn't a radical change, but gradual: the cold didn't arrive suddenly, but it got closer with every step the guy Marco was looking at took, and it got to its highest point as he stopped just at a meter and half of distance from him.

  
  


\- Yes? - he furrowed his brow, confused. Did he need information? He was wearing mostly dark clothes, from his black jeans to the shirt of some band Marco didn't even know existed - and which he couldn't pronounce either, written in big gothic letters on a bloody background. His clothes created an incredible contrast with his hair, ash blond, shaved on the sides, and the eyes color which went from green to hazel. He observed him as he rubbed his arm, like he was embarrassed.

  
  


\- You work here, right? - he asked, his voice low and deep. Marco furrowed his brow even more. - I need information. -

  
  


\- Uhm... - Marco was about to ask him why he didn't just open the door of the shop and ask inside, but he washed away the thought in a second. Detroit could've been rude to him, but he wouldn't have been rude with the citizens. - Tell me everything. -

  
  


The guy's lips curled, revealing an almost feline smile. Marco shivered involuntarily - he was cold, now, a lot. It was a cold that didn't have anything to do with the weather, similar to the cold of death. - I need to know if you sell seeds. Pomegranate seeds. - the guy said. And for some stupid reason, it sounded like a threat.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a project of mine called Of Flowers and Oblivion that got unexpectedly popular back on EFP, italian's most popular fan fiction website, and since someone on tumblr has been asking for translations of my stories I thought I might have give it a shot. BUT my english isn't always the best, so I asked someone for a translation - and this amazing person, that I'll never be thankful enough to, showed up! Please go check cronstantine.tumblr.com, I haven't spammed it enough. Thank you, little one :)  
> I hope you enjoy the story, even if it's not complete yet - but I'm working on it, I promise. I just can't leave my little children by themselves.   
> You can check [the tag for the story](http://what-a-joice.tumblr.com/tagged/hybris%20kai%20nemesis) on MY tumblr. I reblog stuff that remind me of it and have a little aesthetic project that I try to update as regularly I can!  
> Thank you again for reading!  
> -Joice


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